The Orphan in Between
by Du'Varg
Summary: Artem is an 11 year old orphan who just found out she is a witch...But she is also some thing else.What she is,is something she doesn't know.Can She find out with the marauders? Better than summary.Luna's mom's story!
1. The Child Who Could Not Be Found

One

The Child Who Could Not Be Found

Two figures stumbled across the rain splattered road followed by three masked and hooded figures. One of escapes was a medium height, plump male, the other a tall and slender woman.

They had nowhere to run and their procurers knew it.

"Tell us where the child is, and I will spare your miserable life!" yelled one of the hunters. He was a big, rangy man with matted gray hair and robes that looked uncomfortably tight on him.

As he said this he avoided the eyes of the beautiful wife of the man, knowing the offer was not for her. It was a pity that a creature so fair would die but she had already made her choose

"NEVER" he screamed.

The man's face showed no fear as he said this. He thought back to his wonderful daughter only a few months old. How she looked with a small smile playing on her face and how much safer she would now be away from the world of harm she had lived. No she was far safer among people that bid not wish for her blood.

"Fine you had your chance." The man said with a raspy and bark-like voice. Grinning as he fingered what looked to be a long black stick with his long yellowish nails and stepped back behind the other two clocked men.

Now two more of these, long peculiar sticks where visible in the pale moon light. The man and woman could hear the cures said, but stood strong and proud.

The woman sang a single note of music as the cures came hurtling towards. There was a flash of green light, the beautiful music ended abruptly; it had hit her over the heart. They where dead before they hit the hard, rain splattered road.

Fenrir Greyback still smiling sauntered off with one of the death eaters at his heals. The other looked down at the dead woman. A tear escaped one of the man's gray, lonely eyes.

He stooped down and plucked a small trinket from around her fair neck, whispered apology. That was met only by silence.

He straitened him self, wiped the sadness off his face, and disappeared in to the night. Leaving the dead couple behind with only the knowledge that they had saved there child from the same fate.

In another part of England a baby with silvery blond hair awoke from her sleep. She was wrapped in a blanket of leaves at the foot of a large old willow tree.

She cried in that baby language only mothers seem to understand; a language that no one would ever understand again. She would in later years not remember what her father looked like or what the tune to her mother lullaby had sounded like.

She would only remember a howl that echoed thru the forest that night and the tree that had protected her till sunrise; the old farmer frowned her and that the tree had waved its branches in the wind as if to say goodbye.

(AN) plz review


	2. The Vanishing Some What Normal Life

Chapter Two

The Vanishing Some What Normal Life

"Wake up Girl!" screeched the shrill voice, of Ms. Riana. She banged on the door to the freak girl's room.

"Why" the Girl answered groggily. But Ms. Riana had all ready moved on to the next orphan occupied room.

It was the last day of school. But, Artem Oakland ("Artie", to her friends and "freak" or "That Girl" to everyone else) was not pleased. This was the day she saw Bathilda and Isla for the last time in months.

Bathilda and Isla, Anderson were her two best and only friends. In fact they were twins. Their parents owned a small parlor next to a large fielded. Mr. and Mrs. Anderson had named the parlor "Twin leaves" in honor of the fact that the girls middle names where after flowers.

Bathilda and Isla had to help out at the parlor on the weekends. Normally Artem helped out too, which always seemed to cheer her up, since they were practically like the sisters she could never have.

They had stayed with her through thick and thin. What was even better was that they did not care that a lot of weird things happened to Artem.

Artem through off her covers and put on her clothes; a hand-me-down shirt from a rich kid who did not want it any more; a pair of old jeans, which had a lot of small dirt stains that are to this day, impossible to remove. Last Artem put on her one and only possession that she knew her parents had given her. It was a small locket.

On the front was a picture of an oak tree with a large trunk and branches going in all directions in the back ground was a large moon. The picture looked almost magical. Some times Artem swore she could see the branches moving' as if swaying to some nonexistent wind.

On the inside was a small postage note that read in big green letters: Artem Oakland Born: febuary-28-1960 Please care for our beloved daughter. She is our little lunar flower

'I am ready for any thing!' she thought to her self. If she only knew what was to come. Half an hour later a squeaky old buss came to a stop at the edge of the orphanage steps. Bathilda was waiting in the first chair.

"Hello Artie!" She smiled blindingly. "How was your weekend?" Artem glared at her angrily. Bathilda knew better than to ask about her life outside of school or the parlor. As a mater of fact it angered Artem if you said any thing to do with the orphanage.

This week end was like very other week end when she got teased for being an orphan by the kids with families or a freak of nature by the orphans.

That was only because weird things tended happen around her. Like the times when trees would lean over to give her some shade and a boy's hair turning green after he had teased her about not having any real parents. Because of all this, she simply wasn't like the other kids at all.

"I get it. I get it. I just wanted to confirm the weekend!" Bathilda said throwing her hands up in mock fear.

"Where is Isla?" asked Artem while trying to ignore her friend. This time it was Bathilda who glared at Artem. Isla was always late for the school.

"Look like she didn't change much over the week end." muttered Bathilda and glared at Artem playfully.

"Hey" cried Isla as she boarded the bus a few minutes later. "Sorry, I'm late for our last day of 5th grade."

"Yeah, its okay –kind a got used to it after all these years." said Artem, glumly, as she remembered the time in second grade where she and the twins had gotten chewed out by a teacher for being late for school. Bathilda and Artem had tried to wait for Isla and had indeed ended up late.

"So…what else is up? I missed you so much over the weekend, Artie."

"Don't even go there, Isla, you know how my life is. So are you still going to Venice?"

"Yes but I heard it is very pasta-y." smirked Isla, happy with her own lame pun.

"Yeah, I hear that there tends to be a lot of meatballs there, too." retorted Artem, with an equally terrible pun.

"Hey: when in Rome. Or in this case: when in Venice" Isla said with a grin.

"Actually Venice is in Italy and so is Rome so you were somewhat right the first time" called Bathilda from in font of them as she looked in a book title "Your Guide to the City on the Water". A look of confusion crossed Isla's face as she tried to find the pun in this statement, which only made the two other girls busted into fits of giggles.

Artem would later look back and see it had been foolish to think life would stay that way forever.


End file.
